Cancer Selfies

Mortality and Hospice

September is a time of transition for us all. The seasons demand it of us. Our geese gather and leave us, hoping for warmer climates (or the open watering holes of southern Ontario). The leaves change as they die, so the trees as a whole may survive. And in that change, give us the colours of a perpetual sunset until the cold waters come and end it all in a sludgy, cold, slippery mess from which next year's leaves and berries and wonder all grow from. We may not all be there to see it, but its happened every year since the glacier's retreated and I see no reason why it wouldn't continue in my absence just as it has. Maybe with a bit more spice from climate change than we'd like, though.

I have been doing a video series on how weird a transitional splace hospice has been for me. Because it has truly been the strangest physical, mental and emotional places where I've spent any serious amount of time in. Its been a deeply special place, and, as the last few grains of sand in my hourglass empty, one I've been very glad to call home. Its been a gift to me and my family. But a deeply strange one. Some days its a regular apartment, which just so happens to be attached to a hospital, where your old sitcome friend (who always happeens to be a nurse) can bardge in any time to an appause track as they either solve the little problem you were having (usually an IV disconnect or reconnect) and be on their way. Sometimes, though, you're just trapped in a hospital room with no magic, where no amount of whimsy in the form of flowers and quishmallows and toys and pink flamingos and photos on the wall and children's colouring and the like can save it. Its still just sterile.

And those days, my friends, are the hardest ones. Because no one can breath life back into the space. Its just gone for a moment or a minute or longer. And I am ost without it. Its happened rarely, but some day the whole edifice willl colapse, bringing with it the joy I have found here. There will still exist joy obviously, the poodles and Thomasin still exist, but it will be lesser, different. It will be another stepping stone on the path towards my inevitable death. Which is inevitable, and not something I intend to run from at all.

Today there is joy. There is joy in hospice, so here I shall remain. But I must remember that the geese fly befroe the winter, not after the ice has frozen their ponds over. And I just need the wisdom to find that inflection point within my life.

September is a transition time for us all. After all.

The following was originally posted September 4, 2023

This is the anniversary of when I started this album. I'm not sure what I thought I was doing then, but eventually I found my comfort zone relating my experiences with the medical system - the administrative side and the treatment side. This was a comfortable place through chemotherapy, and honestly an exciting one for me to be in through surgery. But I've struggled a bit since then.

I thought it was just that surgical recovery was boring (and it is), but chemotherapy was the same two week cycle sixteen times, and I never felt this way about it. I still talk nonstop about my cancer, as any of you who know me in person, or are in the same Facevook groups, can attest. But I haven't been able to figure out this place.

I think the reason is that, in light of my failed surgery and prognosis, the only place it made sense for me to go was do the same kind of day by day thing, but instead of it being about getting the full cancer trearment experience at 35, it's about grappling with mortality at 36 and, statistically, dying at 37.

Mental health wise, I'm just coming down from a minor hypomanic episode and feel stable, bipolar wise. My lithium levels are good. If asked how I'm doing, I'd truthfully answer "good, given the circumstances," but I can't tell you if that means I'm doing good.

I'm not an actor, though, when you see a look of delight on my face, that's real. I do have an actual notebook with an actual list of neat stuff to do and I am actually crossing things off on all my little adventures. I'm getting out and experiencing the world. Probably doing way more than I ever would have if I remained otherwise healthy, too, which is a thought too terrifying to contemplate.

To end, because it's been haunting my dreams and hopefully sharing will help, if someone, someday, talks about my death bed conversion, know that they are a disgusting fiend who takes advantage of the vulnerable to glorify themselves. If disease progression or treatment leaves me vulnerable earlier than that, same logic applies. These people were never able to convince me so far, I doubt they'll come up with something compelling in the next few years. I doubt I'm interesting or notable enough to receive this treatment, but I know it happens, so I know I'm not 100% unreasonable in my fears.

From the comments

James Petrosky: 37 is an estimate. I don't want anyone who knows me well enough to start doing math on my birthday and panicking. 38 is probably a better estimate, but 37 fits the flow a lot better, and it's all statistics based on regular colon cancer anyways

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James Petrosky: I want to dramatically say "from here on in its all about death" but honestly it's been that way for a while. You have no idea how happy the "thinking about death" joke in Barbie made me, because a) it was funny, and matched my mental state perfectly and b) gave me a lot of cover to joke about it all summer. So thank you, Uncontrollable Thoughts of Death Barbie, you're a life saver.

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James Petrosky: Somewhat related to liars for Jesus are liars for other spiritual causes. Mediums, channelers, seyances, ghost hunters, it's all evidence free nonsense, and they do tremendous harm to people undergoing grief by giving them a false hope that can never, ever be realized. If there is somehow an afterlife that can communicate back to the living, I promise you I'll never, ever give these dangerous frauds the time of day. I can be a stubborn person, and this is the thing I'm most stubborn about, so you can be sure I'll hold to it.

Because we live in something approaching a techno dystopia, it's possible to train a large language model on someone's social media history to create a computer program that can write and speak like you can. Maybe there's not enough information available for me. Almost certianly I'm not important enough for this treatment. But if this is done, and it's done well enough to be convincing, the output program is also not me. It's just an actor, playing a role. The same as a spiritualist, they just learn their script from different sources.

Hair Style Lightning Round

A collection of hair styles I have chosen, and that the treatment has allowed for me.

• Centre is pre-diagnosis, pre-treatment, regular assed long hair
• North is bleached at Lilly's place, I'd have loved to wear it more than an hour, it wss fun
• North-East is the blue that was on the box. It didn't take
• East is the glorious green I got
• South-East is the green as the sun ravaged it and the chemo started to take holding
• South is the point where I shaved what remained
• South-West is the baby fuzz starting to grow back. It was very soft, wavy and provded no tempeature regulation. But it was summer, so it also provided no sun protectiuon.
• West was the straight bald i wore through most of my last chemo cycle. It was easier to keep the floor clean with a perminanly shedding cat that way.
• North-West is how it is now. The facial hair grew back in better and more mountin man than I could have ever hoped. I wish I could survive in part because I just want to see what it can do. The baby hair is back, soft as ever. I may not have won the lifespan lottery this go around, but I'm doing great for hair. And sometimes you take what you can get.

You have fine the joy when it comes to something like cancer. Once it has sapped all the joy, and I think it inevitibly will, that's your end. Or at least it will be mine. But I've been talking with the many faces of death, and I don't think we're ready quite yet.

*The following was originally posted September 3, 2023

I miss my long hair, and my green hair, and especially the few days it was blue hair. I did a thing I'd half heartedly wanted to do for a decade, and I'm glad I did. It's nice that not everything in my Facevook memories is an emotional timebomb I've got to work through.

The following was originally posted August 30, 2022

If the chemo is going to take my hair, I'm going to have fun with it first

From the Comments

James Petrosky: *it isn't a forgone conclusion that I'll lose my hair, and I'm pretty excited about this whole thing

Look-Back x2: Oncologist panic

Sitting here in the hospice in 2024 I don't think there's any other way this situation could have played out for me. I wasn't afraid to ask questions, or even the right questions, but I was so passive that I often didn't take the time to make sure I had the information part of informed conscent solidly figured out.

I did, eventually, get there. All my at home readings of reputible research and advice papers put out by reputible hospital networks got me the information I needed, it would have just been faster if I wasn't so shy and was willig to ask especially about weird bowel movements earlier.

The old mantra remains true, though, questions would not have changed the outcome.

The following was originally posted September 1, 2023

Looking back at this expremely anxious time in my life, the only thing that made sense was for the two teams to be working together in some way to improve my outcome. And both teams turned out great, the disease just had other plans.

The following was originally posted September 1, 2022

Given that there are fewer than 24 hours until I meet my oncologist, I'm going to go back to the CUTE ANIMAL PHOTOS well because holy fuck I have an anxiety disorder and I didn't understand anxiety could be so bad

The comments comtain dozens of posts featuring people's pets and wild animals

Look-Back: Oncologist panic, Death as a friend

I reflected on this on September 1, 2024

I was so anxious, yet excited, to meet my oncologist the next day. We were going to get a real prognosis, rather than trying to get one sort of doctor to give me expertiese from another's specialzation. We were going to leran about treatment planning, about return to work timelines. We were going to learn how to traverse the death crypt that is the cancer ththat resided in me, and get back into the sun, where I could laugh and picnic with facncy cheeses and pickles and little sandwiches.

Of course, cancer is no more a horseman of the apocalypse, no seahorse waiting to destry all. And you're just as likely to run into that death, embracing as friends, in the brightest sun as you are darkest cave.

The following was originally posted September 1, 2022

Given that there are fewer than 24 hours until I meet my oncologist, I'm going to go back to the CUTE ANIMAL PHOTOS well because holy fuck I have an anxiety disorder and I didn't understand anxiety could be so bad

The comments comtain dozens of posts featuring people's pets and wild animals

I'm still bad at selfies

I'm 36 now, and my technical selfie abilities have certianly improved, a year of constant practice will do that to you. But more importantly, my comfort with taking my own picture (and having my picture taken) has increased dramatically.

I remember when I was in university, not wanting to be in any of my photos because "why would anyone want to look at me, they want to look at those cool rocks / buildings / geese / whatever. And I wasn't wrong, you should be taking those pictures, too. But I wasn't right. Not in a way that mattered. Its important to appear full of joy in photos, because that is what those who love you want to see. Unless its your job, you aren't going to take a groundbreaking photo of Machu Picchu, but only you and your friends can take one with you and that wonder in the same frame.

The two photos were taken in the same spot, facing the same way. When I said I was bad at selfies, I meant it, it would be months before I found the mirror setting and turned it off.

The following was originally posted August 21, 2022

(This was written on September 4th, 2022)

Back at home after Barrie trip, at the Balm Beach breakwater. Look, I'm 35, I know I'm bad at selfies, and I would normally only share the really good ones. But that isn't what this album is about.

Fake cancer cures

Its been a constant stream of fake medicine, weird new age bullshit ("energy healing"), natural nonsense and, the most frustrating to me, faith healers, for the past year. Mostly on Facebook ads, although genuinely a lot less than I expected, and while Facebook is really bad about taking down con artists, their block function seems to work in a very absolute way. I don't see a lot of objectionable cancer stuff on Facebook anymore.

On the wider internet, things are more dire. Google is terrible about letting you block dangerous advertisers, and the place I spend the second most time is YouTube. Google ads power much of the rest of the internet, too, making it often difficult to navigate.

Its all very frustrating, because even though some of these clowns might genuinely believe in what their doing (new agers and natural fanatics are generally in this camp), the whole lot of them get a lot of people killed. I devoted much of my adult life to scientific skepticism, which puts me, personally, in a good place when it comes to these people. I've seen their claims, often am familliar enough with their products to know if they've been properly tested, and if that testing reflected well on them (none of the things I listed pass these tests). And, if I don't know their products and claims, I have a strong network of people who I trust and who I can ask.

None of which helps the people who were not fortunate enough to be exposed to skepticism. Or those who grew up in the church, and think seeking out real medicine is equivalent to questioning their faith. Or people who's support group is made up of those well meaning frauds who still get people killed.

I want a call to action, to tell you to write your MPP/MLA to kick medical fraudsters out of the medical system, and your MP to put these con artists in jail. But their lobbies are far, far too powerful, because their lies are too profitable. The best I can reasonably hope for is that we can save a few of our most vulnerable from wasting their time, their money and, in the case of people like me, what little life they have left on dangerous charlatans.

The following was originally posted August 30, 2022

If your wondering how fast advertisements for nonsense natural remedies take over your feed, it's within hours (maybe quicker, I was at work and not paying full attention).

I've already blocked and reported a half dozen.

Right now I'm still in a position where I can laugh these off, block some scammers, and move on. If I start to break, someone please just point me at Science Based Medicine to set me straight again ❤️

Looking back at announcement day

Friends, thank you for consistantly giving me an escape from a world dominated by existential terrors at every turn. Thank you for keeping me in cute animal photos through chemo and scans and dozens of blood draws. You made it easy to be hopeful when it was possible to be hopeful, and have helped me be peaceful, level and calm now that there's nothing to do but wait. Each and every one of you is fantastic, and while I may have been able to get this far without you, why would I ever want that?

Gone is the pain (literal and figurative) I felt when I wrote this, gone is the terror of the unknown. The horror remains, at least a little bit, but mostly what I feel on this anniversary is gratitude. Thanks for being there, and I sincerely hope you'll remain. It's going to be sad, but there'll be cats at least.

The following was originally posted August 19, 2022

Friends, this is not going to be a happy post. I understand if you take a pass, just know that you're all important to me, you brighten and give colour to my life, and that I love you all.

I've been diagnosed with cancer of the appendix. Its already spread to at least two other places. This is the source of the gut/abdominal/belly button pain I've been complaining about for a while. We've only suspected for just over two weeks. and only had it confirmed this week, so I don't know what the outlook is like, but I'm choosing to be hopeful.

Work friends, please keep this to yourselves. Work is the only place I can pretend things are normal right now and that is important to my mental health.

All friends, please don't tell me you're praying for me. That's often used as a passive aggressive threat towards atheists, and while I know you don't mean it that way, I'm already emotionally spent.

Again, you all mean the world to me, and the world is a better place having all you in it ❤

You know cannabis is legal in Ontario, right?

1 - I miss the good avatar backgrounds ¹
2 - Look at me, being all cute and coy, pretending the problem was the cannibis and not the high grade existential crisis that comes from knowing you're a) extremely, utterly, nonsensically doomed and b) won't be given a timeline for that doom for almost three weeks, so even planning for Thanksgiving in two months seems futile.

Anyways a combination of the cannibis and winning a staring contest with that deep, dark void was the solution. The CBD works much better now.

The following was originally posted August 13, 2022

Holy crap CBD is a demon chemical that damns me to an unrestful sleep full of vivid and surreal dreams. I'll take seven.

From the comments

James Petrosky: I have a lot more Facevook memories than I share. I've been reading every comment as they come up. Your kind words of support were invaluable then, I genuinely don't think I could have made it from diagnosis to treatment without you all, and remain a comfort to me now. A good community and sense of belonging won't alter the course of my illness, but it brings light and colour to the days as they pass in joy and contentmemt. For that I thank you.

I am crying right now, but it's from happiness and comfort. I don't know if anyone wants to contemplate their own mortality, but when you do, I hope you feel this supported.

Lots of bad anniversaries coming up

Past James had best enjoy that long weekend, even with the ruined pizza, Tuesday is going to be the worst fucking day

I've got a lot of feelings about the coming week, but I'm in a good place, mentally. I've found my peace.

The following was originally posted July 29, 2022

Guess who forgot they couldn't taste food and bought pizza to celebrate the long weekend?

From the comments

James Petrosky: I'm also pretty sure I worked all weekend, maybe even the Monday. So I didn't enjoy the weekend. Sometimes thats just how it goes

I was supposed to be on vacation that week, too. Which made all the testing I had to do that week (blood, ultrasound, CT) much easier to work around.

I'll never really get to use my licence

I was pretty pleased about passing my licencing exam last year. But we now know that I did it with excruciating cancer pain AND some pretty bad intestinal panic. Also I did extremely well.

Couldn't have been prouder of any other accomplishment to end my career on (even though it traditionally marks the beginning of a career)

The following was originally posted July 23, 2022

This week refuses to quit with the ups and downs

From the comments

James Petrosky: You can sad and care react if that's what feels right, but I'm genuinely pleased with what I accomplished, and am comfortable with it being an ending. I am at peace.

My Covid-19 anniversary (and a lot more coming)

Oh hey! It's the anniversary of the start of the worst, hardest two weeks of my life. But today's the day I get to return home, too, where Thomasin awaits. Truly a mixed bag of a day.

We must choose to focus on the good, however. Which is pretty easy when she's so soft

The following was originally posted July 22, 2022

That's a positive.

From the comments

James Petrosky: For spoilers, August 5th is the day I traveled five hours, alone, to tell my parents about the cancer diagnosis. I do not recommend, but I can't think of another way I'd have done it.

But the two week period wasn't all bad, I watched a lot of Universal Monsters movies while I had covid, and still think of those quite fondly.